Death is a word that many fear, avoid, or suppress in conversation. But I’ve come to see it differently. To me, death is not an end but a transition — a natural and inevitable completion of the cycle of life. This perspective hasn’t shielded me from the heartbreak of losing loved ones, but it has offered a sense of grounding and deeper understanding. Reflecting on the loss of my beloved family members, I find myself exploring the complex, multifaceted experience of grief, the injustices that plague life, and the spiritual lessons death can teach us. This post is a heartfelt tribute to those I’ve lost and an exploration of how death, in its many forms, shapes the human journey.
The Transition of Elders: A Completion of a Cycle
When an elder transitions, there is a bittersweet beauty to it. Their passing often feels like a culmination of wisdom, love, and legacy. It’s a reminder of the natural rhythm of life. As elders in my family transition, each loss feels different, and how I process it depends on our connection, circumstances, and the stories we shared.
What anchors me during these times is the belief that energy never dies. The physical body may cease, but the soul moves on, preparing for its next life. This knowledge doesn’t erase the pain of loss, but it transforms it into a celebration of the life lived. Yet, the grieving process remains deeply human, with its waves of sorrow, anger, and longing. Death, I’m learning, is not just about endings — it’s about the legacy and lessons our loved ones leave behind.
Gone Too Soon
Losing someone young is a uniquely devastating experience. It defies the natural order we expect and brings with it a sense of incompletion. When my younger brother, who was only 44, passed away suddenly, it felt like my world was shattered. The grief was visceral. I can still hear the cries of his children and imagine the haunting scene of his lifeless body. In moments like these, the knowledge that the soul endures offers little comfort to a heart broken by loss.
My brother and I balanced each other in life: he was jovial, while I was more serious. His transition left a void that has taken me on a deeply introspective journey. Grieving his loss has been like navigating a fog. At times, I’ve felt paralyzed, shutting people out as I wrestled with the absence of his presence. But even in this pain, there has been an awakening. His passing has ignited a fire in me to live more authentically, to shed patterns of self-neglect and self-sacrifice that had previously defined my life. His transition brought a hard truth to light: life is precious, and it’s meant to be lived fully and unapologetically.
Injustice and the Weight of Unjust Death
While personal grief is deeply individual, it sometimes intersects with collective pain, especially in a world marked by systemic inequities. The unjust loss of life, particularly within the context of systemic oppression, carries a different weight. My brother was very passionate about calling these injustices out. As a Black person in America, I’ve witnessed and felt the collective grief of seeing my community targeted by violence and systemic racism. The murder of unarmed Black individuals of all ages, captured and broadcast for the world to see, echoes the haunting imagery of lynching. Billie Holiday’s “Strange Fruit” still feels painfully relevant — a bitter reminder of how far we still have to go.
These losses remind me that grief is not just a personal experience; it’s a communal one. The collective mourning of lives unjustly taken is a call to action. It’s a reminder that we must continue to advocate for the right to live freely and without fear. For me, this advocacy is both spiritual and practical. Spiritually, it’s about protecting and uplifting myself and my community through ancestral practices and rituals. Practically, it’s about demanding accountability and systemic change. Each unjust death becomes a rallying cry to create a world where such transitions no longer occur prematurely.
Energy Never Dies: A Spiritual Perspective
From a spiritual standpoint, I believe death is a transition, not an end. It’s a moment when the soul sheds its physical form and returns to Source. In my moments of stillness, I’ve felt the presence of my loved ones who have transitioned. I’ve heard their guidance and felt their love, reminding me that they are never truly gone.
This perspective offers solace but also responsibility. Our ancestors used spiritual practices to navigate transitions and protect their descendants. Whether through Rootwork or other Indigenous traditions, they understood the power of connecting with the spiritual realm. Today, I draw on these practices to find strength, clarity, and purpose. My brother’s transition, painful as it was, became a turning point for me to reclaim my spiritual birthright, authenticity, and to honor his legacy and the legacy of all my benevolent ancestors. Whether you find solace in faith, spirituality, or community, we all have tools to navigate these transitions.
The Cycles of Life and Death
From a broader metaphysical perspective, life and death are interconnected stages of the same journey. This means that life and death aren’t separate opposites, but rather two parts of an ongoing process, much like day transitions to night or the changing of seasons. It emphasizes that existence continues in different forms, even after physical death.
The physical world is just one aspect of our journey. When we lose someone, it’s easy to focus on their physical absence. But their energy persists, influencing us in ways we may not immediately recognize.
I’ve come to see death as an invitation for growth. It forces us to confront our fears, reassess our priorities, and appreciate the fragility of life. In my brother’s case, his death became a catalyst for me to live more intentionally. It reminded me that life is not about the quantity of years but the quality of how we live and love.
Grief as a Testament to Love
Grief, though heavy, is a testament to love. It’s a reminder of the bonds we share and the impact our loved ones have on our lives. As I navigate my own losses, I’m finding ways to honor my loved ones through actions such as ancestral veneration and other rituals. For my brother, it also means living with authenticity and purpose. For those unjustly taken, it also means never forgetting their names and stories.
Death also teaches us about resilience. Each loss shapes us, challenging us to find meaning and strength in the face of pain. It’s not about “moving on” but moving through — carrying our loved ones’ memories with us as we continue our journey.
Honoring Their Transitions
To my brother and all the loved ones I have lost, this post is for you. Your transitions have changed me in profound ways. You’ve taught me the value of authenticity, the importance of community, and the power of love. I carry your lessons with me, striving to live a life that honors your legacy.
To those reading this, I hope my reflections offer solace, perspective, and maybe even inspiration. Death is never easy, but it’s a universal experience that connects us all. Whether we face the natural passing of elders, the tragic loss of the young, or the injustice of lives taken too soon, we are united in our humanity and our capacity to love.
Let’s honor their transitions not just in thought, but in the way we live every day — with purpose, compassion, and the courage to advocate for what is right. Use their memories as a catalyst to love fiercely, advocate bravely, and live authentically. In the face of death, let us find life.